


All That You Need

by ManlyMan



Series: Sciencebaby Fusions [2]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Human, Drabble, Family, Fanart, Fluff, Gen, Illustrated, Mentions of Yellow and White Diamond, Music, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 13:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11556594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManlyMan/pseuds/ManlyMan
Summary: Neelabja Bhardwaj: veterinarian, foster mother, and former punk bassist.Azzurra Bianchi: high school student, foster daughter, and aspiring singer.The two of them share an early morning musical exercise.





	All That You Need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keepbeachcityqueer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepbeachcityqueer/gifts).



      Eight-thirty on a Saturday morning, a modest breakfast of idlis, yoghurt and mint chutney, and spiced potatoes in their stomachs, and Neelabja was ready to hear her daughter sing. Neelabja herself always seemed to have long, flowing dresses with an almost bedazzling array of colors highlighting them, and today was no different. Azzurra, on the other hand, preferred a monochromatic color scheme of pastel blues; they went well with her pale skin and dark curls. The early sun shone through the white linen curtains with ease, casting the largely empty room in a faintly golden light that gave the two ladies an oxymoronic blend of energy and calmness, ridding themselves of any remaining traces of the morning drowse and replacing it with a soft happiness.

      Drawing forth a stool and plugging a Fender Jazz bass into a small amp, Neelabja sat down, still towering over Azzurra’s relative petiteness. The Indian woman was not quite an entire inch over seven feet tall, a thought that brought fond memories of her former bandmates and current friends, the whole lot of them having been seven feet or higher. None of them were sure just how in God’s name they all got such brobdingnagian proportions without breaking their legs or having serious back problems before they were twenty, but, well, there they were.

      She shook her head, banishing the reminiscence. Now was not the time, she had a daughter to coach. Crossing her legs and perching the bass guitar in her lap, she said to Azzurra, “Okay, so, we are to practice your recognizing of different songs through only a single instrument, rather than the entire melody. Being able to still sing properly when some of the other elements fail, such as the guitar or drums being off-rhythm, is very important. It’s not the same as singing without instruments at all, because there is a certain awkwardness that comes with interruptions that will throw you off. Do you follow me so far?”

      Azzurra nodded meekly. “Yes, Mother.”

      Though only sixteen years of age, Azzurra had shown promise ever since her adoption twelve years prior. She knew from the get-go that Neelabja was not her biological mother, but her love was nearly unconditional regardless. She remembered with no small amount of joy the times they spent together, her dandling on Neelabja’s knee while belting out a childishly loud and off-key playground rhyme.

      “I will be making intentional mistakes as you go, and I expect you to recognize the songs by their bass alone. Am I understood?”

      Another nod.

      “Good.”

      Neelabja used her fingertips instead of a pick to pluck out the rhythmic notes for the first song she had in mind. About fifteen seconds in, the song clicked in Azzurra’s mind, and she began to sing along.

 _Oh, my life_  
_Is changing everyday_  
_In every possible way_  
_And oh, my dreams_  
_It’s never quite as it seems_  
_Never quite as it seems_

      Neelabja’s mouth curled into a small but noticeable smile.

 _I know I’ve felt like this before_  
_But now I’m feeling it even more_  
_Because it came from you_  
_And then I open up and see_  
_The person falling here is me_  
_A different way to be_

      When Azzurra was halfway into the series of “Ah, la da” between verses, Neelabja suddenly stopped playing. Azzurra almost faltered at it, she could tell, but she held it together anyway. A twinge of motherly pride echoed in the foster mother’s heart.

 _I want more_  
_Impossible to ignore_  
_Impossible to ignore_  
_And they’ll come true_  
_Impossible not to do_  
_Impossible not to do_

 _And now I tell you openly_  
_You have my heart, so don’t hurt me_  
_You’re what I couldn’t find_  
_A totally amazing mind_  
_So understanding and so kind_  
_You’re everything to-_

      As Neelabja struck a sour note, the ‘incorrect’ noise made Azzurra’s singing hiccup, and the girl gave a sigh of disappointment. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

      Neelabja gave a comforting laugh and placed her gentle hand on Azzurra’s shoulder. “Don’t kick yourself over this, hm? We can always try again.”

      If there was anything about Azzurra that she didn’t like, it was how cripplingly demure she was. Neelabja herself was rather humble for someone who was once a rockstar, but even by her standards, Azzurra’s self-esteem was almost nonexistent. “Why don’t we try another song?” she suggested, and Azzurra nodded again. When Azzurra heard the first couple bars, she wore a smile of her own, recognizing it almost immediately; were her eyes visible beneath her ebony locks, they would have been glittering joyfully.

 _Shakedown, nineteen seventy-nine_  
_Cool kids never have the time_  
_On a live wire, right up off the street_  
_You and I should meet_  
_Junebug skipping like a stone_  
_With the headlights pointed at the dawn_  
_We were sure we’d never see an end_  
_To it all_

 _And I don’t even care_  
_To shake these zipper blues_  
_And we don’t know_  
_Just where our bones will rest_  
_To dust, I guess_  
_Forgotten and absorbed_  
_Into the earth below_

      By the time the chorus came around, Azzurra was singing far more confidently. The bittersweet song was one of her favorites, regardless of the pleasantly melancholic feelings it gave her, or perhaps because. Despite Neelabja ‘messing up’ twice so far, Azzurra’s singing was flawless.

 _Double-cross the vacant and the bored_  
_They’re not sure just what we have in store_  
_Morphine city slipping dues down to see_

 _That we don’t even care_  
_As restless as we are_  
_We feel the pull_  
_In the land of a thousand guilts_  
_And poured cement_  
_Lamented and assured_  
_To the lights and towns below_  
_Faster than the speed of sound_  
_Faster than we thought we’d go_  
_Beneath the sound of hope_

      No matter what tricks Neelabja tried to pull, Azzurra managed to keep her singing on track, through the various stops and wrong notes she slipped in. She had a hard time not laughing, her grin almost going ear to ear.

 _Justine never knew the rules_  
_Hung down with the freaks and ghouls_  
_No apologies ever need be made_  
_I know you better than you fake it to see_

 _That we don’t even care_  
_To shake these zipper blues_  
_And we don’t know_  
_Just where our bones will rest_  
_To dust, I guess_  
_Forgotten and absorbed_  
_Into the earth below_

      Azzurra’s initially unassuming smile grew broad and toothy as the last lines came up, and Neelabja didn’t bother with any stops or bad notes at that point; seeing Azzurra so happy made her happier still.

 _The street heats the urgency of now_  
_As you see, there’s no one around_

      The song now finished, Neelabja gave her daughter a loving hug, her long arms reaching so far around the girl’s slight frame that she could almost touch her own shoulders. “That was beautiful, dear,” she said.

      “R-really?” Azzurra stammered, her porcelain cheeks pinkening at the compliment.

      “Mhmm. Maybe we can see about inviting Yvette and Winifred over tomorrow, if their schedules are open? I’m sure they would love to have you sing for them.”

      The thought of her mom’s sororal lifelong friends visiting left Azzurra’s heart aflutter. While the mere size of all three women was humbling enough, they both exuded power wherever they went. Yvette always held herself in a way that made her requests seem like demands, and also compelled you to obey, whether you actually wanted to or not. She was the loudest and most talkative of them, but then again, never had any of her professions suited quietness. Winifred, on the other hand, was even taller than either Neelabja or Yvette by a few inches, and she spoke with her eyes more than anything else. Unlike Yvette, Winifred needn’t speak to make her wants or feelings on a matter to be known, but when she did talk, she was domineering in a low key sense, to the point that you didn’t even realize you were being bossed around until it was too late. She knew them as aunts, even if they were less related to her than Neelabja, and held a bit of favoritism for Winifred for her less aggressive nature. All of them were aware that Yvette, while still loved as family, made Azzurra uncomfortable with how she usually presented herself. Through years of effort this had changed, but only so much; Azzurra’s diffidence was part of her very nature, and one would find an easier task in making a stone weep than changing Yvette’s mind.

      In spite of this, Azzurra otherwise had an almost slavish devotion to what few people she could call family, and was always more than happy to please her mother and aunts. She knew of them all having been in a band together, long before she was born, though they did not usually speak of it- Yvette had once said “You’re better off not knowing what cocaine does to you” when their time as Diamond Dust was brought up- but they still visited to talk and drink and play music on occasion. Imagining them all together in the room, playing specifically for her to sing to them, made her legs briefly turn into jelly.

      “That sounds _wonderful,_ ” whispered Azzurra bashfully.

      Neelabja beamed. “I can give them a call when we finish our practice today. Now, let’s get back to work.”

      Tapping her hand on the body of the bass, she gave the iconic “One, two, one two three four,” getting them back on track. Though her singing the rest of the day wasn’t so perfect as it was from the last song, the gaiety deep within her heart made such small failures irrelevant, for she was sure to be loved, and nothing could quell that.

 

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, mostly just a songfic to help establish ~~Blue Diamond~~ Neelabja and ~~Blue Pearl~~ Azzurra as characters properly, and also an excuse to share a relatively quick piece I made; I really hate how Neelabja's hair came out, but it's otherwise alright I guess.
> 
> Song lyrics are from _Dreams,_ by The Cranberries, and _1979,_ by Smashing Pumpkins.


End file.
